Urzai Month
by InsanityRunsInMyBlood
Summary: Urzai month is here! This will be a series of oneshots dedicated to my OTP in the ATLAverse! Enjoy Urzai fans! Rated M because I know I have to write lemons for my fave couple.
1. Song

Urzai Month April 1st: Song

The second-born prince wandered the empty halls with a sigh, hand ghosting along the red columns. The parties his father hosted for Iroh had nothing to do with him, and yet his elder brother always tried to drag him into them, if not to get him drunk, then to try to have him hook up with some girl. The first few times Ozai was willing, but things soon got boring and repetitive.

He walked down the steps and into the small part of the garden that held the turtleduck pond, where there were less people. A few girls giggled at him from the other side of the garden, and he flashed a charming smile at them briefly, causing them to giggle louder, wave, blush, and run off. Ozai rolled his eyes and made his way silently towards the pond.

A heavenly voice suddenly disturbed the silence that had settled after those stupid airheaded girls left. Ozai paused, and hid himself behind a small willow tree, gazing at the lone figure sitting beneath the largest tree in the garden. Her audience were the turtleducks, who were, for once, completely silent as they listened to the woman beneath the tree.

_Gaze upon my face my love,_

How ironic, Ozai thought, as he waited for more. He did not believe in love at first sight, but the way the moon's ethereal beams shone on her lovely, pale face…

_I implore you, say my name._

_I remember naught but you,_

_a moth drawn to your flame._

_What have I to lose, my dear,_

_when all I need is you?_

_There's nothing in this world_

_that I need more than you._

Ozai found himself drifting away, imagining that she was singing to him. He knows this song. He loves the arts, and whenever he has free time he spends it in the library practicing his calligraphy or painting, or reading up poetry and traditional music. He was curious as to how she will sing the next part for a man usually sings the next verse.

_Come to me, my lady,_

_you have got nothing to fear._

_Throw your body into mine,_

_I'll always keep you near._

Her voice had descended from a breathy soprano to a rich tenor, yet Ozai knew that he could do better than that—the verse was sung in baritone. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth.

_Your name, your name, your name,_

_you whispered in my ear._

_And now to make you remember,_

_your lovely name, my dear._

The woman started at his smooth voice, and he smiled at her, encouraging her to continue the song with a nod, and she prepared herself again.

_Oh tell me, my love,_

_what is the title I bear._

_I know your name, my love,_

_so this is hardly fair._

Ozai sat next to her and looked at her as he sang, making her blush delicately.

_Do not be impatient my lady,_

_for you have said it there._

_Your name was on your lips,_

_you're named after the bear._

The maiden flushed even more, but kept on singing.

_Oh my darling, my love, my prince,_

_now we can finally marry._

_So when I call your name,_

_you can cry out for me._

Ozai smirked at this verse and looked into her ochre eyes before singing his part.

_My sweet, sweet, Ursa,_

_we belong together now._

_Nothing in this world,_

_will break our loving vow._

They both sang the last part, as was written by the songwriter.

"My princess—"

"My prince—"

"I love you so."

"Hold onto me—"

"I'll never let go."

By the time they were done, a soft cherry hue had spread over the maiden's cheeks, and warmth stirred in Ozai. It was a foreign sensation.

"Pardon me, my lady, but I have yet to learn to your name?" Ozai asked, raising her hand and kissing it softly.

"My name's Ursa. My parents named me after the woman in the song, in hopes that I will find someone who loves me as much as the man loves the woman." She said, smiling. Ozai quirked an eyebrow.

"And what kind of man were they expecting?" He asked.

"They want a good son-in-law who will not break my heart." Ursa said boldly. "I have not found a suitor as of yet, because most men in the Fire Nation are pigs."

Ozai laughed loudly at this, and Ursa bowed her head. "Forgive me. It was not my place to speak out."

"Oh no, don't apologise for that. It was quite refreshing for a change." Ozai chuckled. "Goodness knows this nation needs more girls like you, and less like the ones who ogle me every time my brother holds a ball."

"Your…your brother?" Ursa gasped. "Forgive me, Fire Prince Ozai, I did not recognise you." She prostrated herself in front of him, but he caught her, making a disapproving noise. She shied away from his touch.

"Please, lady Ursa—sit up." He chuckled. "What brings you to this part of the palace? Shouldn't a lovely young lady like you be enjoying herself with other boys from the noble families?" He queried. Ursa shook her head.

"Nobles or not, they're…" She hesitated, struggling to find the right word.

"Pigs, I know." Ozai said wryly. "Which is why I don't spend time with them either." He said. "My brother, on the other hand…" He sighed dramatically. "He is married, and yet flirts with every person he sees who doesn't have a d—" He stopped himself just in time, looking at Ursa's raised eyebrows. He coughed. "Pardon me, my lady. I…get carried away at the worst of times." He apologised, a light pink dusting his otherwise pale face. Ursa brought a hand up to her mouth to stifle a giggle.

"No, it's quite alright, my prince." She said. Ozai tried not to look too affected by the title. He has heard the title from many people before, be they servants or girls hoping to catch his attention, but none have made him feel like this before. The foreign sensation from before was back. "If I may be so bold to ask, how does a prince of the nation know such a romantic song?" Her voice held a teasing quality in it.

"I…read. A lot." Ozai said, fumbling with his words. Ursa smiled.

"Or you're just a hopeless romantic at heart." She said. The teasing was more prominent now. The gears in Ozai's mind whirred, trying to come up with a suitable reply.

"Well, if I am indeed a hopeless romantic, my lady, will you allow me to lead you onto the dance floor?" He stood, extending a hand down to her. Ursa looked at him in surprise, taking his hand and standing.

"I would be honoured to, my prince." She said, sending a shiver down Ozai's spine. Curse this girl for making him feel this way.

"Please, just call me Ozai." He said, hoping the reduction of the 'my' in front of his title would lessen the effects of the strange feeling.

"Of-of course, p…Ozai." She said, giving him a stunning smile. Ozai swallowed.

Nope, switching 'my prince' to 'Ozai' only made it worse.


	2. Sun

Urzai month April 2nd: Sun

Physical energy—chi. Every bender relies on their chi to bend. When the chi pathways are cut, they find themselves unable to control their own element.

For a firebender, firebending does not only rely on your flow of chi. Of course you cannot bend without it, but fire also relies on four other things: your breath, your drive, your discipline, and the sun.

Regular breathing is essential for good firebending. If you do not control your breath, you firebending will be erratic, and you'll never reach the rank of a master. A firebender's lungs are strong—when they're born, they cry out in their loudest voice, drawing air into their lungs and expelling it forcefully, showing that even at birth, they're destined to be a good bender.

Your drive is…how do I explain your drive? Well, for firebending, having a motive, a purpose—a _drive_ is extremely important. It is what fuels you and keeps you going.

My drive? It used to be to achieve perfection and best Iroh, and…and there was so much anger and resentment to fuel it. Yes, I used the past tense—I'll get to my drive later.

Thirdly, you have to have control. Discipline is what stops your own fire from turning on you. You have to control your flames, or it will control you, and burn you. This is the reason why young firebenders have to be trained, and why many cannot master the element. They do not have control. They get into accidents. And they give up.

Lastly, the spiritual fuel: the sun. The sun is the source of our fire. It provides us with the warmth. It is life. Our power is the greatest when the sun is at its highest point in the sky. We firebenders rise with the sun, and we set with it.

Anyways, getting back to my drive. You see, before I met Ursa my drive was as I said above—anger. I was angry that Iroh was better than me in my father's eyes. I was angry that I was the second-born, and less important. I was angry to know that when my father passes, I would have nothing. I was angry because no matter how good I am, nobody notices me under the shadow of my brother the warm, kind Crown Prince Iroh.

I can never be him.

But my drive changed when I met Ursa.

She's something I've never encountered in my life—one of a kind. I've seen my fair share of girls and women alike, yet nobody could compare to her. When she entered my life, she was not judgemental. She listened to me and talked to me like I was normal, and not someone who they could use to gain the attention of my father. I used to be a cold, angry bastard. Yes, I admit I was that bad, but she believed that I was something else, and under her, I slowly began to change.

My drive was no longer my anger and resentment—it was my fierce love for Ursa and my need to protect her. From the day I realised that, my fire became much stronger and more beautiful, and she told me the same. I practised everyday under the glaring Fire Nation sun, but it was dim to me now.

Nothing could compare with her glow. She was everything to me now; she was my world.

One day I realised that as well as being my drive, she became my spiritual fuel, and that night as I lay next to Ursa I could have sworn that she shone brighter than any celestial body.

She had become my personal sun.

* * *

**IDEK what that was. Oh well, hopefully the next ones are gonna be better.**


	3. Promise

Urzai month April 3rd: Promise

"_Ursa! Ursa!" Through the heavy downpour, Ozai could make out the hooded form of his wife. She turned as lightning flashed, lighting up her beautiful, sad eyes. Thunder rumbled as Ozai caught up to her. They stood in the relentless rain as a silence passed between them. Ozai's hair clung to his scalp, and his golden eyes were luminous at the next flash of lightning._

"_Ozai?" His name spilt from her full lips just as the second clap of thunder disrupted the otherwise silent night, yet he could hear it loud and clear._

"_I want you to have this." He whispered, handing her a little pouch made of dark red silk. Ursa withdrew it to the inside of her robe and peeked into it, a gasp tumbling out._

"_But—Ozai…this…this is your royal seal!" She whispered, looking at the faint glint of gold. She knew that his name, __烈火王子傲宰 __(Fire Prince Ozai), was engraved into the elaborate stamp._

"_I know." Ozai said, clasping her small hands in his big, rough ones. "But when I am crowned Fire Lord tomorrow, I will use the seal that comes accordingly." He said. She nodded, drawing away, but he clung to her with a sort of desperation behind his moves. His hard golden eyes were wild, and Ursa could not tell whether he was crying or not under the rain. "Ursa, promise me something." He said urgently._

"_Anything, my love." She whispered. "But be swift, for I must go."_

_Ozai's eyes slid shut with pain at those words, and when he next opened them, they were molten and had an inferno of a thousand emotions behind them, and it was then that Ursa was sure that he was shedding tears—for her._

"_Whatever may happen, keep it, and never forget me." He said softly. "And if we ever meet each other again—no, we _must_ meet each other again! Bring them back to me, Ursa." He said, choking up. "Come back to me." He said. Ursa nodded, tears wetting glistening trails down her porcelain cheeks._

"_I promise, my prince. We _will_ see each other someday again, Ozai. I know it." She said, drawing away. He let her hands slip through his, but he lurched forward, catching her arm again. Without a single moment of hesitation, he spun her, threw her hood off, and pressed his lips to her, locking them in a passionate dance for what is surely the last kiss they will share in many years. She responded fervently, clutching the garment of his soaked vest in one hand and pressing the other against his hot skin, feeling his strong heartbeat._

_When they drew away, he was gazing at her with such agony in his expression that for a second she wanted to stay behind, damn the consequences, but—she cannot. For his sake and the sake of Zuko and Azula, she must leave._

"_Goodbye, my love." She whispered. Ozai watched her go, and after the silence the sky blessed them with, lightning flashed again, and it was brighter than any lightning strike he had even seen before. It was as if the heavens knew what was happening. The intense flash of light lit up Ursa's figure hurrying away in the night, and when he next blinked, the light had faded, and so had she._

_Thunder followed inevitably, and he screamed along with it, releasing all of his pain. As he turned away, the thunder kept on rolling across the sky, and when he uttered a heartbroken goodbye (too late), he pretended that the thunder was there to drown out the sound of his rending heart._

(I was going to leave it here, then I realised how cruel that would be. My own feelings couldn't even take it, so here's a semi-happy ending).

"Wake up. You have a visitor." The harsh voice jarred Ozai from his dream. Ozai blinked his eyes open wearily. He felt something wet on his face, and touched his cheek, frowning. He tasted the wetness, and to his utter shock, it tasted salty.

He was crying?

He wiped away the tears furiously and sat up, doing what he could to straighten up his appearance. The door opened and a hooded figure walked in. Ozai frowned.

"Who are you and what do you want?" He asked. The figure walked up to the bars and held out a small red silk pouch to him. He walked to the bars and took it from the proffered palm, and as his hand brushed against the soft skin, something akin to electricity sparked between them. Ozai looked at the visitor with suspicious eyes, but he could not recognise the figure.

"Open it." A low, rough voice emerged from the figure. Ozai loosened the string at the top and shook something into his hand.

A golden seal with a dragon's head glinted at him innocently. Ozai nearly dropped it. He looked up, hope welling inside of him.

"Ur-Ursa?" He croaked, throat suddenly closing up. Delicate hands removed the hood, and Ozai had to grip the bars for support, as he could feel his knees going weak. His wife's soft ochre eyes regarded him with so much love that he felt his tears returning with a vengeance at the guilt that suddenly rose from within. "You…after all of this…you kept your promise…" He whispered. _He was worth her coming back, even after he scarred Zuko, used Azula, and tried to burn the Earth Kingdom to the ground._

"Of course." Ursa said quietly. "I could never forget the look on your face when I left. I knew I had to come back."

"Thank you, Fire Lily." Ozai whispered, overwhelmed with emotions he had thought were long gone. Ursa smiled sadly and reached a hand in to stroke his cheek. He leant into the familiar touch, body aching for more and soul singing for the first time in seven years.

"Be strong, my love. I have to go for now, but I promise I'll return." Ursa said, drawing away. Like when she left, Ozai reached out and grasped her arm.

"You'll return?" He asked in a strangely vulnerable voice.

"I promised, Ozai, didn't I?" She said with a reassuring smile, and once again he let her slip through his fingers, but this time he knew she was going to come back.

After all, she _promised_.


	4. Flame

**Warning! Slight M ahead!**

* * *

Urzai month April 4th: Flame

A sliver of the morning sun shone down on the couple on the bed. You'd think they were still sleeping, but they aren't.

What else did you expect from the second-born prince of the Fire Nation and his wife?

Ozai hovered over Ursa, peppering kisses on her collarbone. A smile curved her pearly pink lips.

"Ozai…" She murmured, drawing him closer. She pressed him against her, and put a hand on the back of his head, guiding him south. Ozai kissed a trail down to the valley of her breasts, and she moaned in encouragement. "What brings this on?" She said breathlessly. Ozai responded by swirling his tongue around a nipple, and tweaking the other. She arched into his touch, pressing into his hard planes eagerly.

"Can't a man pleasure his wife?" Ozai spoke, lifting his mouth slightly and sending a ripple of cool air over her moist skin. She shivered.

"Mmm, you don't see me complaining." She said, threading her hand through his long black locks. He moved his mouth further south, licking a burning line straight down to the spot between her thighs. His hands kept on working wonders on her torso, caressing, fondling, and rubbing her sensitive spots tenderly. Ursa felt heat pooling in her belly as his supple tongue flicked out to stimulate her.

Ozai let his hands smooth paths down her sides until they reached her inner thighs, which he pushed apart further, allowing him better access to her treasure. Ursa opened her mouth when he stuck a finger into her slick entrance, and she felt an unfamiliar heat burst out of her throat—

Whoosh! Flames licked at the air before dissipating, leaving a lingering warmth.

"What just happened?" Ozai asked, looking up, bewildered. "I swore I just heard firebending." He looked at her.

"I…breathed out…fire?" Ursa said uncertainly, putting a hand over her mouth.

"How is that possible? You told me you were a nonbender." Ozai said, lifting himself up, his duty to his wife forgotten for now. "How did you do that?"

"I…well…" Ursa blushed. "What you were doing felt amazing, and I just…breathed out, I suppose." She said, blushing even more.

"But how come you can suddenly breathe fire?" Ozai asked, worried. "Maybe we should consult the—" Before he could finish his sentence, Ursa bolted from the bed and to the bathroom, retching over the lavatory. Ozai ran after his wife, smoothing a warm hand over her back.

"Ursa! Ursa, are you alright?" He asked.

"I…" Ursa groaned, the nausea welling up again. She bent over the toilet again, but the feeling went away as quickly as it came. "I think I'm okay." She let out a shaky breath.

"Come, let's consult the royal physician." Ozai helped her up. They dressed quickly and visited the physician and explained Ursa's condition to him, leaving out the raunchy details of what came before, of course, lying about what caused Ursa to breathe fire.

The man took hold of Ursa's wrist gently. Everything was silent for a minute or so.

"Congratulations, Fire Prince Ozai, Fire Princess Ursa." The old physician smiled. "You're expecting a child." He bowed. Ursa gasped, and Ozai looked stunned.

"Is that—is that why she was able to breathe fire?" Ozai asked excitedly.

"Correct. It is a sign of a powerful heir, my prince." The man bowed.

"Thank you." Ozai nodded, taking Ursa's hand and helping her back to their rooms. He never let go of her hand the whole way back, and when they reached his door he opened it for her and led her gently to their bed before hurrying to get more pillows for her (he had heard from Iroh that pregnant women often experienced backaches).

"Do you need anything else?" Ozai asked, finally stopping. "A bath, perhaps? Some food?"

"I'm pregnant, not invalid. Although it's sweet of you." Ursa smiled at Ozai's sudden overprotectiveness. The prince sat down next to his wife, looking slightly flustered. Nobody had ever called him sweet—not even Ursa. Well, up to this point, that is.

"I'm not sweet." He grumbled, placing a hand on her abdomen tenderly. She smiled at his stubborn streak. "I just know that I have to take care of you better, my Fire Lily." He rubbed her stomach softly.

Ursa suddenly felt the urge to eat something that she's never actually liked before.

"Could you go get me some fireflakes?" She asked. Ozai blinked.

"Fireflakes?" He looked confused. "But you don't like them."

"I think our little flame does, though." Ursa smiled, placing a hand on her stomach.

"Of course." Ozai left with a smile on his face. "I'll get it myself."

As Ursa watched her beloved leave the room, there was no doubt in her mind that he would be a great father when their little flame is born.


	5. Mourning

**I did some canonbending ;)**

* * *

Urzai month April 5th: Mourning

"General." The lieutenant said with a quivering voice. "Sir, the Twenty-Fifth Division went under attack from a group of elite earthbenders an hour ago. The division has lost all contact with base." He said, swallowing. "We sent men to retrieve any survivors, but…"

"But what, lieutenant Jee?" Ozai asked, his voice as sharp and cold as ice.

"There were none." He whispered. Ozai's blood ran cold.

"No." He said. "Bodies?" He asked desperately, a great contrast to the calm and composed self he was only a few seconds ago.

"We found Prince Zuko and a few others buried under rubble. There was evidence of a great battle, and we also found the remains of many earthbenders. The bodies of our soldiers have been taken to the mortuary." The lieutenant bowed his head. "I am sorry for your loss, General Ozai."

Ozai stood up. "How far are we until we break through completely?" He asked abruptly.

"With a few more days, General, we can take the city. It's nearly been two years. If we see this through to the end, we will bring Ba Sing Se down." Lieutenant Jee responded.

"Gather all the men. I need to speak to them." Ozai said in a hard voice, striding out. Jee followed.

Ozai wasted no time heading to the morgue. He barged in, golden eyes scanning the beds until he found the tranquil body of his son. In death, Zuko's face was relaxed, and there was even a trace of a smile on his son's face. The soldiers in the morgue stood straighter at Ozai's unannounced entrance.

"Stand guard outside." Ozai commanded, and they obeyed without any hesitance. Ozai walked over to Zuko and gazed down at the young prince. Black grief clouded Ozai's sharp and handsome features.

"I'm sorry, Zuko." He spoke, placing a hand on Zuko's armoured shoulder. "I'm sorry I could not protect you like I should, my son." He leant down and placed a kiss on Zuko's cold forehead. "Rest in peace, my boy. Rest in peace."

With that, Ozai straightened up. He looked at the entrance to the tent, and his features hardened again. He set his jaw, marching out. To his great satisfaction, his soldiers were in formation, waiting for him. He stepped in front of them.

"Soldiers!" He called in his strong voice. "As you might have heard…today, the men of the Twenty-Fifth Division sacrificed their lives protecting us. As all of you know, they were amongst the most important divisions in our army. Their position was vital, and they fought until their last breaths to secure our place, slaying the earthbenders who would have arrived here at our base had our men not thwarted them." He said. "My own son, Prince Zuko, died for our cause." He paused, letting the news sink in. All the soldiers knelt on one knee, bowing their heads in respect to the dead prince.

"My good men." Ozai said. "We will not let the death of my son be for nothing!" He said. "We will use Prince Zuko's sacrifice to fuel our fire! We will exact our revenge! We will burn Ba Sing Se to the ground!" He roared. The men gathered shouted their approval.

"FOR PRINCE ZUKO!"

* * *

A mere week later, Ozai returned with his forces to the Fire Nation capital—triumphant, but with a heavy heart. When all of the formalities, celebrations, and funerals were over, he walked into his room, suddenly looking a lot smaller than he really is, with his armour off and back slumped for once. He found Ursa waiting in their room with tear tracks still fresh on her face.

"Where's Azula?" He asked hoarsely, voice nearly giving after all the speeches he had to make.

"She's in bed. She's had an exhausting day." Ursa said. Who hasn't? But the young princess deserved peace after hearing about the news of Zuko's death. Everyone knew the firebending prodigy loved her older brother to pieces, and that this was a huge blow to her.

"Ursa…" Ozai couldn't bear to look at his wife, so instead he looked out of the window at the setting sun. "I'm so sorry." He finally said. "I'm sorry I could not protect Zuko. I'm sorry I came home alone. I should have died instead of—"

Ursa had come over without him noticing and had placed her hand over his mouth. "Don't say things like that." She said softly. "Losing Zuko is hard enough." Her voice caught. "I cannot ever imagine losing you." She wrapped her arms around him.

"Forgive me." He repeated.

"There is nothing to forgive."

His large hands covered hers as they watched the sun disappear from their view, as if Agni himself were mourning the loss of one of his children.

* * *

**Ah, Ursa is ever so forgiving...**


	6. Fear

Urzai Month April 6th: Fear

"You'll be the most loved child in the Fire Nation." Ozai promised his son as he held him in his arms for the first time. "Ursa, what do you want to name our son?" He asked, love permeating his voice.

"Zuko." Ursa whispered, holding a hand up. Ozai went to her and handed her their newly christened son.

"It's a good name." Ozai murmured, sitting beside her and stroking her hair, having clumped up in strands due to the sweating during Ursa's hard labour. He tries not to think what would have happened if she had not pulled through, but he does anyway, and that makes him treasure his son even more, all the while resenting the newborn for almost taking his love away from him.

Zuko opened his eyes and began to wail. Ursa cooed at him tiredly, rocking him all the same. Ozai gazed down into eyes identical to his own and stuck out a finger curiously. Zuko took it and sucked on it, and Ozai drew back in distaste, causing his wife to laugh quietly.

"He needs to be nursed, Prince Ozai." One of the maids said. "It is against tradition for a man to be in the room when—"

"She's my wife." Ozai said. _There's nothing I haven't seen_.

"But, my prince…" The maid said with a tremor in her voice.

"Get out." Ozai said. When they hesitated, he repeated his words with a dangerous undercurrent, raising his voice as well. When the maids bowed and retreated, Ursa placed a hand on Ozai's arm.

"Love, don't be so harsh." She chided gently. His expression softened. "They fear you."

"Fear is not necessarily a bad thing, Ursa." Ozai responded.

"It is better to be respected and loved, than feared." Ursa said softly. Ozai grunted.

Ursa sighed internally and let the matter drop when Zuko reached for her breast. _So young and so intelligent already_. She shifted the blankets and let Zuko suckle. She glanced up at Ozai, but her husband was looking out of the window instead, a frown upon his face.

_One day_, she told herself_, one day he will realise the truth in my words_.

Two years later, Ozai held Zuko as Ursa gave a last scream, pushing their second child out. The youngest prince clutched his father's vest, golden eyes large and bewildered.

"Congratulations, Prince Ozai, you have a daughter." A maid—not the one from two years ago, mind you (she was banished for some other minor offenses)—said with a bow.

"Does that mean we can stop?" Ursa asked from the bed, a small smile on her glistening face. Ozai allowed a smile to grace his features as well.

"Of course, my princess." He said, going to sit next to Ursa again. The maid handed Ursa their daughter, all washed up and bundled, and went to the side awaiting orders.

"Out." Ozai said. The maids were more intelligent this time and knew that they should not disobey their prince, lest he banish them in his wrath.

"I named Zuko. What do you want to name our daughter?" Ursa asked, smoothing the clump of shiny black hair on the baby's head. At the touch, the baby stirred and opened its eyes irritably. Ochre eyes the same shade as Ursa's stared at them this time. Unlike her brother, this child was unusually quiet.

"Azula." Ozai spoke. "After my father." He explained.

"It's a beautiful name. My darling Azula." Ursa whispered, testing out the name. Azula looked at her mother and offered her a toothless smile in reaction to her new name. Ozai raised an eyebrow in astonishment.

"She is going to be a smart one." He declared proudly, having eyes only for his daughter in the room. Zuko, as if sensing this shift in parental affection, tugged Ozai's hair.

"Dada." The child of two said. "Dada." He insisted. Ozai looked back at his son.

"Let me hold my daughter." Ozai said, handing Zuko to Ursa and picking Azula up. Azula didn't protest, only looked at her father, a tiny hand reaching out to touch his face. Ozai smiled down at her as Ursa watched on. Zuko snuggled into his mother's warmth, but the woman paid little attention to her son.

For a moment (it might have been the sunlight, but Ursa was not so sure), she thought she saw a glint of something—something indescribable in Ozai's eyes as he looked down at their daughter. Granted, Ozai was a good father to Zuko, if not a bit distant, but that look in his eyes sent shivers down Ursa's spine, and she associated it with something she never thought her husband could cause her to feel.

For the first time since she met Ozai, she _feared_ him.


	7. Anticipation

Urzai month April 7th: Anticipation

Ozai sat opposite of his father in the palanquin, eyeing the backwater village that was named Hira'a.

"How come Avatar Roku's descendants ended up living here of all places?" Ozai asked Azulon.

"After Avatar Roku died protecting his family and villagers from the great volcanic explosion in 12 BSC, his wife and their child most likely moved somewhere remote in order not to be discovered." Azulon answered.

"And yet they're found again." Ozai murmured.

"Nothing escapes the eyes of the royal family, my son." Azulon said. "Ah, we're here."

The servants opened the door and, as customary, the Fire Lord stepped down first, followed by his second-born son. They eyed the house in front of them.

"Such a shame." Azulon said softly. "To think that the descendants of a great man would wound up living like this. No matter. By tonight the Avatar's granddaughter will be living the life she deserves—in the palace." He said. Ozai dipped his head, agreeing with his father's sentiments. They strode up to the front door of the house and a servant rapped on it smartly.

"One moment please!" A man called.

"You…have not informed them that we were coming?" Ozai asked in surprise.

"I saw no need." Azulon said simply. "They cannot refuse such an offer."

"Hmm." Ozai said. "Is there any other reason you have chosen this girl? Aside from the fact that she's descended from Avatar Roku, that is."

"Her name is Ursa. It would do you well to remember your future princess' name." Azulon reminded him, and Ozai nodded. "As for your question…not particularly, but from the information I have gathered, it seems the girl is not bad looking either." Azulon gave his son a sideways glance and smirked. Ozai smirked back.

The door opened, and the man looked up with a smile on his face that was turned into a gasp. He quickly went onto his knees and touched his forehead to the ground.

"Fire Lord Azulon! Fire Prince Ozai! I apologize for—" The man said with a trembling voice.

"No need." Azulon cut him off. "Magistrate Jinzuk, we are merely here for your daughter." He said smoothly. The man looked up, confusion swimming in his eyes.

"Your majesty…said you were looking for Ursa? What could your majesty possibly want with her?" Jinzuk asked.

"My son here wishes to propose to her." Azulon said casually, waving a hand. Jinzuk swallowed visibly.

"Of-of course. P-please, do come in." Jinzuk said. The royals stepped into the house and were led to the greenhouse.

"Please wait just a moment, your majesties, I will call my daughter." Jinzuk hurried away.

Ozai tapped his foot in a rare show of impatience. He looked around at the various flowers in the greenhouse. His father's words repeated in his mind: _not bad looking either_.

His curiosity piqued, he tried to imagine what kind of woman he would be meeting. What kind of eyes would she have? Golden? Grey? Brown? Or perhaps a strange shade of hazel made of a curious mixture of colours? Those were the most common eye colours in the Fire Nation.

What would she look like? Would she be pale like most beauties in the nation, or would she be a healthy shade of bronze from being outdoors? Would her jaw be strong or delicate? Would it be sharp or square? Is her hair black or brown? Would it be long or short? Would she be a firebender like himself?

There was just so much Ozai did not know about his future wife.

"Your majesties, she is coming." Jinzuk re-entered the greenhouse, bowing. Ozai traced a finger along the petal of a blooming fire lily, eyes never leaving the vibrant colours—

"Fire Lord Azulon!" A soft voice gasped out. The sound of knees hitting the floor could be heard. Ozai looked up, anticipation rising from within, and spotted a feminine figure with a waterfall of lustrous brown hair. Well, at least one mystery was solved.

"Ah, Ursa. Let us take a look at you." Azulon spoke. Ursa stood demurely, and Ozai stepped forward, forgetting about the fire lily. Excitement built up again, and he spoke:

"Look at me." He said firmly. Azulon retreated to give the two some space, with a knowing smirk on his aged face. Ozai looked at Ursa, and he was not disappointed. His father had been right. Rather, he had been underplaying her beauty.

Ursa was pale, but in a healthy way. Her cheeks glowed rose, and her nose was straight, leading down to full, pink lips and a sharp, proud chin. Ozai glanced at her entire form. She wasn't too tall nor was she short—she reached his shoulders. She was slim but curvy, and he hid a boyish grin that threatened to erupt. Prince or not, he was still a man. His eyes flickered up and finally met hers, and he was immediately entranced.

Her eyes were the shape of almonds, with long lashes framing them, highlighting her beautiful irises. They weren't gold, nor were they brown. They were in the middle—a mesmerizing shade of ochre, blended in with honey and amber.

"Fire Prince Ozai." She spoke, and he heard her voice properly for the first time. It was like wind chimes, flowing over him soothingly.

"Lady Ursa." He responded in kind, with a charming smile already on his lips. Her face turned just a shade darker, and his grin widened.

He couldn't wait to see her on their wedding day.

* * *

**Loosely based off 'the Search' for readers who have read it. Hope it wasn't too bad haha.**


	8. Balance

Urzai month April 8th: Balance

"Come on, let's go say hi!"

"Not now, Liang." Ursa sighed tiredly, fanning herself in the heat of the day.

"Oh come on! They're _right there_!" Her friend giggled, bouncing around. Ursa gave Liang an incredulous look.

"How can you be moving so much when it's so hot?" Ursa demanded. "I feel like if I move just a bit I'll melt!"

"But this is, like, the only chance that we'll get to talk to them!" Xia whined. "Oh Ursa, don't you want to see the princes?"

"No." Ursa answered, causing everyone to gasp.

"Hello ladies!" A booming voice travelled across the sparring ground. All of the girls giggled and hid blushes behind their fans. Ursa rolled her eyes and kept on fanning herself, wishing more than anything to take off her shawl—or better yet, her entire dress. Of course, that would be less than appropriate in such a situation—why, she wasn't even allowed that outside of her own room, in her own house!

She sighed irritably, glaring up at the sun indirectly. The sun glared back down, causing her to scowl.

"Why that particular face, my lady?" Iroh strode up to them, shirtless. All of Ursa's friends looked away, giggling again, looking at the muscular and stout figure of the Crown Prince. Ursa merely looked him in the face with a demure smile, wiping her scowl off.

"It is too hot in the summers, Crown Prince Iroh." She said. "I simply do not see how you and your brother can spar in such a climate."

Iroh laughed loudly, wiping the sweat off his head carelessly. "We are used to it." He informed her good-naturedly. "And please, just call me Iroh." He winked. Ursa hid her face behind her fan as proper.

"Brother, that was hardly appropriate considering you're married." A smooth, drawling voice entered everyone's ears, contrasting greatly against Iroh's rough but warm voice. The girls giggled again, peeking at the newcomer with fluttering eyelashes. Ursa wanted to hurl.

Prince Ozai stood at the same height as his older brother by many years, and despite their similarities, one would be a fool not to see the differences between the two heirs of Azulon. While Iroh was somewhat short but firmly muscled, with a rounder face, his younger brother was tall and lean, although his muscles were also well defined. Ozai's face was longer than Iroh's, and his golden eyes were much brighter than Iroh's slightly brown irises. Ursa found those eyes piercing her, and she looked away this time, a blush dusting her cheeks. Ozai looked away after a few seconds, towelling his back dry. The rest of Ozai's dark hair that was not in the topknot fell in tendrils across the back of his neck, caused by his sweating. Here was another difference. Iroh wore his hair up in a topknot even during training, and had a bit of facial hair growing already. Ozai's face was clean, bringing out his strong jaw. Ursa absently wondered how he would look with a goatee—perhaps the kind that Fire Lord Azulon sported.

"Instead of courting the ladies, why don't we spar again?" Ozai asked, eyes flickering to Ursa once in a while.

"Sure, brother. Prepare to get your behind handed to you." Iroh smirked. Ozai scoffed, taking a battle stance. The siblings circled each other right in front of the ladies, and Ursa saw her friends leaning forward with big smiles on their faces.

_No doubt happy they can observe the princes up close._ Ursa stifled a long-suffering sigh. Nevertheless, Ursa herself was enthralled by the punches, kicks, and well executed flying leaps that Iroh and Ozai fought with. More often than not she found her eyes straying towards a certain second-born prince, admiring the way his abs rippled when he spun.

_Ursa!_ She chastised herself. Here she was, thinking that she was the most aloof out of all her very girly friends. Now her own thoughts were betraying her. She chanced another look at Prince Ozai, and was surprised when she caught his eye as he was in the middle of a spinning kick again. She gave him a tentative smile, and a second later there was a yelp of shock. Ursa blinked and found herself looking at Prince Ozai lying on the dirt. She hadn't even registered that anything was wrong.

"Brother!" Iroh hurried over. "What was that?" He asked, helping a bewildered Ozai up. "I've never seen you lose balance like that before!"

Ozai stood, dusting himself off and grimacing at the dirt that stuck to his sweaty body. He snapped his fingers, and immediately a servant carrying a bucket of water came up. Another servant quickly offered a tray of cups, but Ozai waved the latter away, taking the bucket and dousing himself entirely. Iroh took a step back as the water splashed the second-born. Ozai was now dripping wet. He handed the bucket back to a stunned servant who quickly hurried away. Ursa looked at him in jealousy, wishing she could do the same. His eyes caught hers again, and she was surprised at the intensity in his burning orbs.

His hair clung to his scalp, and his topknot was ruined, so he just undid it and shook his hair, sending droplets of water flying everywhere. The water ran down his skin, and Ursa's friends were all slack-jawed, staring at the prince. His pants were soaked, clinging to his long, strong legs, and Ursa could not help but to notice that it also clung to…ah…a sensitive part of him.

She blushed.

"You." When Ozai spoke, his voice was as intense as his eyes. "What's your name?" He asked. Ursa recoiled in surprise, before lowering her head, standing before kneeling down. But before she could do so, strong hands caught her arms and lifted her up again. "There's no need for that, my lady." Ozai smiled wryly. "Not when I'm in a state like this."

Ursa could hear giggling from behind her. Iroh chuckled as well, eyeing the pair.

"Ladies, do you want to hear about the time when I bested a dragon?" Iroh said cheerfully, addressing Ursa's friends, who all squealed enthusiastically. The sound faded as Iroh led them away.

"Thoughtful of him." Ozai smirked at his brother's retreating back. He looked back at Ursa again. "I have yet to learn your name."

"Ursa." She said.

"Well, lady Ursa, congratulations." Ozai grinned at her, and despite his mature look, Ursa could see the boyishness in the prince when he bared his canines at her. "You're the first one to cause me to lose my balance." He said.

"Really?" Ursa asked. "I do not know whether I should be flattered or frightened."

"You should be flattered." Ozai said. "My firebending stances are perfect." He said rather arrogantly. Ursa smiled at his smug attitude.

"Indeed? Show me more, then, Prince Ozai." She challenged. Ozai stepped away from her and wrung his hair and trousers before sinking into a traditional stance.

Try as he might, though, every time he reached that particular kata, he would lose his balance, and his ego would take another blow. Though, he supposed, with those mischievous ochre eyes trained on him and those lush lips smiling, he could afford a few more blunders just to hear her laughter again.

* * *

**Squeeaaaal for dorky Ozai! XD**


	9. Portrait

**Sorry this is late! Was caught up with work!**

* * *

Urzai month April 9th: Portrait

"Dismissed." Ozai said from behind the curtain of flames. His generals bowed and retreated out of the Throne Room. Ozai sighed, extinguishing the fire with a wave of his hand. He stood and walked off the throne's platform into a small area to the right. He sent a blast of fire at a part of the wall, and it slid open, allowing him access to the private chamber of the Fire Lord (which was constructed for the sake of the sovereign, as the Fire Lord's own suite was far away from the Throne Room).

He strode in with a frustrated snarl, shrugging his robes onto the floor unceremoniously. For the love of Agni! Why were his generals so damn incompetent? He was willing to bet that Azula could do better than some of the men on the council. Heck, even _Zuko_ would do better!

He sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly as he slumped down into the seat behind the desk. He glanced at the stack of reports on it, and for a moment he just wanted to unleash the biggest fireball he could make and just _burn _everything to ashes. He glanced at the room and noticed that he could actually make that happen. He took a deep breath, readying himself. Just a little fireball—burn a few things…just a few. It won't be too much.

Then his eyes landed on a wooden frame, and his breath caught in his throat. Looking at him with a gentle smile was his dear estranged wife. The faded portrait looked exactly like Ursa—except for the eyes. The colour had receded so much that it made her ochre eyes seem like a pale gold, even paler than Ozai's own.

She looked sad in this picture.

_Ozai gazed into never-ending warm pools of dark gold. A pale, soft hand latched onto his arm invitingly. He didn't need to glance down at her smile to know she was doing so—her eyes told him all he needed to know._

He reached forward and picked the frame up, bringing it (her) closer to him. He trailed a thumb down her face as a small smile made its way onto his own reluctantly.

"I miss you." He admitted. He trailed a finger over her hair.

_Ozai breathed in her sweet, clean scent, nose pressed in her hair. He twirled healthy brown strands in his hand lazily. Ursa giggled._

"_It tickles!"_

He rested the pad of his thumb on her cheek.

_Ozai looked down at his sleeping wife. The light of the full moon shone through the gap in the thick red curtains, spilling onto her fair skin. He looked on in awe—she was like a goddess to him—and she was all his. Lowering his head, he kissed her cheek softly, his hair brushing against her neck. She murmured something and snuggled into him._

He remembered her body and the way it moulded against his perfectly.

_Ozai pulled Ursa flush against him, burying his head into the crook of her shoulder even though she was around a head shorter than him. _

"_Ozai!" Ursa exclaimed, surprised, but hugged him back nonetheless._

"_I missed you." He mumbled, sounding like a child talking to its mother. _

"_I've only been gone visiting my parents, Ozai." Ursa chuckled. "For one week."_

"_Still too long." Ozai pulled back and had a good look at her. Ursa smirked out of the blue._

"_You're cute." She informed her husband, who looked bewildered at the term. "Maybe if you'd heat up a bath for me I'll give you a treat?" She suggested into his ear, slipping out of his grasp and brushing past him, leaving the poor prince flushed. _

_He ran past her, heading straight to their bathroom, revelling in her sweet laughter._

Ozai sighed with longing evident in his voice. He did not know how he survived these two years without her. Every night he would roll over in his (too large) bed and wish for a warm body next to his. Once or twice the pain became so much that he was tempted to go find a mistress and just forget it for one night, but he always stopped himself.

He would not be unfaithful to his Ursa.

Once or twice, he would look at Azula and start to call out Ursa's name, but he always stopped himself.

She was gone.

Perhaps that is one of the reasons he favoured Azula more. It was hard to punish a child with the same features as his dearly beloved.

Whenever he looked at Zuko, all he would see is his own face staring back at him.

He hated himself.

Perhaps that is the only reason he harbours resentment for Zuko.

He glanced down at Ursa's portrait again, eyes flickering to her lips for a split second.

_He leant down and captured her rosy lips with his own. She was soft and pliant, letting him have the control. He loved her for it._

He closed his eyes and tried to imagine the feel of her, the taste of her again.

They snapped open in horror when he found that he could not, for the life of him, recall how it felt to have Ursa with him.

Sad, wet (although he would always stubbornly deny that fact) eyes looked down at the portrait.

It was all he had left of her aside from his recollections.

He held it close to him and closed his eyes again, drowning in a sea of memories and wishing nothing more than to have his Ursa in his arms again.

* * *

**TTvTT Down with a severe case of feels. Need to cheer myself up with next prompt.**


	10. Rendezvous

**I guess I'm just going to be late...*laughs nervously* sorry.**

* * *

Urzai month April 10th: Rendezvous

The sweltering summer days in the Fire Nation were somewhat alleviated at night.

Not that it mattered to Ursa—she was clad only in a bikini top with a thin, flowing skirt that, despite reaching her ankles, actually let air circulate between her legs.

She hurried through the darkening streets, fearing what the night could bring. The Fire Nation nobles' sons are not all what their fathers make them out to be.

She turned a corner and walked a rocky road down to the beach, where the rocks smoothed into pebbles and finally joined with coarse sand. She walked to the edge of the ocean, shedding her shoes and letting her toes sink into fine grains of white sand.

"I thought you wouldn't come." A low, smooth voice interrupted the otherwise quiet night. A figure slid fluidly from the shadows of the cliff, padding closer to Ursa.

"I'm a woman of my word." Ursa said softly, untying her hair and letting it fall. A zephyr, full of the fresh smell of salt, rolled across the beach. Her hair fluttered with it. The man put his hands on either side of her waist and kissed her bare shoulder tenderly before wrapping his arms around her midriff fully and pulling her back into him slightly. He rested his chin on her shoulder. It tickled, but Ursa didn't mind. It was one of the quirks she loved about him—especially when she had discovered how useful it was when she wanted to pull him in for a hard, passionate kiss. She would just yank on it, and the yelp he made every time (he really shouldn't be surprised anymore) was endearing, before she would cut him off with her lips, tongue and all.

The sun finally set, allowing the moon to climb higher and higher. Day quickly became night, and the two of them stood in amicable silence until the moon reflected on the ocean beautifully, drawing the tides up. The cold water sloshed over the couple's feet.

The man pulled Ursa back.

"You're strange, waiting for the sun to set." The man murmured huskily, hands deftly undoing the straps of her bikini top.

"I know you prefer the sun." Ursa said, stretching as the top fell onto the sand. She turned and gave her lover a smile. His golden eyes met hers, and they seemed almost silver in the moonlight.

"You seem to have a fondness for the moon." Her lover said, tracing the underside of one of her breasts.

"At least it's cooler under the moon. I'd rather not dehydrate while we get it on." Ursa said wryly. He chuckled under his breath.

"Ah, well, you look divine under the moonlight, darling." He conceded. "Truly delicious."

"Let us not waste any time, then." She said. He shrugged his vest off, revealing all of his toned muscles which rippled under his smooth, tanned skin. Ursa ran a finger along the proud bumps on his abdomen, earned from rigorous, strict years of firebending training.

"Mm." She grinned. "Sexy."

"You're sexy _and _beautiful." He responded, swinging her up into his arms bridal style. She blushed, even though he has said that many times before. He carried her a bit further up onto the stretch of sand and laid her down, taking her skirt off. He spread her legs and kneeled in between them.

"What are you waiting for?" Ursa breathed. He smirked down at her.

"I only meet with you once a month." He said, reaching up to cup her breasts with a playful grin. "Might as well play with you before we do it." He tweaked a nipple, smirk widening when he saw her pout.

"You're so mean. Is it that hard for a girl to ask for a good night? To ask for it rough?" She asked.

"First of all…" The man leant down and placed his mouth over one breast, lips hovering just above a hardened peak. "It's considered bad for a woman to have sex before marriage." He whispered. "And secondly?" He swirled a tongue around her nipple. "Who said I wasn't going to give you a good night?"

He proceeded to prove his statement by increasing his pace, kneading her breasts as well. "But if the lady wishes to have it fast and hard, who am I to deny her?" He said, irony dripping from his voice. Ursa smirked.

"Then give it to me." She growled.

"With pleasure." He said, biting down. She cried out and arched her back, giving him better access. His hands slithered around her waist, supporting her back, allowing her head to fall back as she moaned in pleasure. Her long, lithe legs were somehow wrapped around his waist, pulling the band of his trousers down.

"Just fuck me already." She said, biting her lip when he grinded against her. The man raised an eyebrow at her crude language, although he was both amused and even more turned on.

"What? I thought you wanted foreplay." The man pouted, taking off his pants in a quick movement, all the while supporting Ursa with his other arm.

"In me. Now." Ursa demanded.

He sat down quickly and lay down, positioning Ursa on his abdomen.

"What's the rush?" He teased, moving her over his half-erect member with a lazy grin. "We have all night."

"Yes." Ursa made an impatient noise at the back of her throat. "But I want to fuck for the rest of the night."

Her lover sighed. "Insatiable minx." He muttered. Ursa raised herself above his now fully erect member.

She licked her lips, placed herself above his impressive package, and sunk down onto it in a smooth motion. Both of them groaned at the feeling. Ursa's head spun with the delicious friction she felt as he reached deep into her, and her lover released a drawn-out hiss at the feeling of her tight, wet core wrapped around him snugly.

"Tell me." He croaked. "Why do we only meet up once a mon—nnnngh!" He moaned when she grinded herself. He gripped her waist and started to thrust into her slowly, puffs of smoke escaping from him every time he exhaled. Ursa's sharp nails dug into his pectorals, and he responded by taking a hand to pinch a nipple—hard. Ursa cried out from both pleasure and pain, and before she could retaliate, he slammed into her more forcefully and increased his pace.

"Y-you play a dirty game, my prince." She gasped.

"You wanted it rough." The prince grunted, sweat beading on his forehead.

"T-true." Ursa whimpered, overwhelmed. It felt amazing after a month of abstinence. "Ozai!" She protested when he withdrew from her. He only smirked at her and flipped her over so her ass was sticking into the air. He repositioned himself and slammed into her again, reaching deeper from this angle. Ursa screamed loud enough to wake up the dead as Ozai forced himself to increase his pace. All of that stamina training did come in handy after all. Sturdy hips thrust the piston of flesh in and out continually. By now juices were flowing down her inner thighs, and her moans were broken up by the sheer, jarring force of Ozai's thrusts.

"Ooooozaaaiiii~!" She moaned his name out. "I'm—ahhh!" She screamed when he abruptly changed angles again. It felt like he was touching her deepest and most sensitive spot. "I'm coming!" She gasped, feeling the heat pool in her belly. It got hotter and hotter until she felt like she was a volcano about to explode.

"Come for me, then." Ozai rasped, still thrusting, trying his hardest to keep himself from coming before she did. It was nigh impossible—the way she tightened around him was heavenly.

But finally, Ursa's release came, and she screamed it out for the rest of the world to hear. Ozai exhaled a small mushroom of flames, eyes widening when he felt her slick muscles clamp down around him irregularly.

"Ursa-Ursa I—" Was all he managed to get out before he felt himself unravelling, spilling his seed into her. He trembled, buried hilt-deep into her, as he waited for his earth-shattering orgasm to subside.

He pulled out and flopped onto the sand next to Ursa, whose hair stuck to her sweaty, glowing face. He reached over and touched her cheek.

"Amazing." He said simply, looking drained but satisfied. Ursa smirked, sitting up and crawling over to him.

"Ah ah ah, Ozai. Who said I was done with you? When I say I want to be fucked for the rest of the night—I mean it." The glint in her eyes told him she was not kidding.

"Fuck." He stared at her. "Hnng!" He groaned when her hand found his limp member and brought it back to life with a few strokes. "Woman, you're going to be the death of me."

"Is there a better way to go?" Ursa questioned, climbing on top of him again.

"Fuck, no." He said before Ursa yanked his head up with his goatee. "Owowow—mmm…" He murmured into her mouth.

"Then don't complain and just fuck me raw."

And that's exactly what Ozai did.

* * *

**I don't even know what I did there...XD**


	11. Dragon

Urzai month April 11th: Dragon

"Mother…" Azula placed a cool wet cloth on Ursa's forehead. Zuko sat on the other side of the bed, holding Ursa's wizened hand.

The mother of the reigning Fire Lord looked at her two children with filmy eyes that looked half-golden, half-brown under the dim light.

"Ozai…" She whispered, turning to Zuko. Zuko winced, but let his mother touch his face. Azula worked on drawing the extra, unneeded heat away from Ursa and the cloth, and the old woman sighed in relief. "Ozai…am I dead? Have you come to get me?" She smiled slightly, the fever having addled her mind.

Zuko swallowed, looking at Azula, who nodded sharply.

"Just hang in there a bit more…love." Zuko said, forcing his tears back. He glanced at Azula again, and tired ochre eyes looked back at him morosely. They both knew their mother didn't have much time left before she went to join the others in the spirit world. The royal siblings were the only ones left aside from Zuko's daughter.

"I'm so tired, Ozai." Ursa whispered, speaking words that were not for her children. She closed her eyes, and Zuko gripped on tighter, in panic, while Azula kept on siphoning the heat away. "Just take me away…" She whispered.

"Just…say goodbye to the children first." Zuko replied with difficulty.

"Yes…you're right. How could I forget?" Ursa coughed, and blood dribbled out of her mouth. Azula wiped it away quickly with a cloth, which she placed in a bowl of water that was already red. "Azula, my daughter…know that I am proud of you…so proud…and I'll always love you." She said. Azula took Ursa's free hand with both of her own.

"I love you too mother." She said softly. Ursa smiled.

"Tell Zuko I love him as well, and to cherish his family. You will tell him that, right?" Ursa gripped Azula's hand with surprising strength, her eyes clearing for a moment. Azula swallowed, glancing at Zuko.

"Yes. Of course, mother." She whispered. Zuko's tears were flowing down his face freely, and Ursa looked back at him.

"Why are you crying, Ozai? We are finally together again…" Ursa sighed happily. A few moments later her chest stopped rising, and her hands fell slack. Zuko sobbed with anguish, and Azula reached across to shut Ursa's eyes.

"Rest in peace, mother." She whispered, finally letting her tears free.

* * *

Ursa took a tentative step forward. The ground didn't _look_ solid. It looked like clouds and fog mixed together. She took another step forward. The ground held.

"Hello?" She called. Her voice was quickly absorbed into the misty surroundings. She knew she was in the spirit world, and that she was dead. That was about it.

Suddenly, the fog cleared, revealing a nice beach with the sun glaring down at her. A red dragon was coiled up on the ground right next to her. She jumped. The dragon raised a massive head and looked at her with familiar golden eyes. Ursa reached out a hesitant hand, and the dragon leant into it, nuzzling her with its huge snout.

"Ozai?" She whispered in wonder. The dragon purred low in its chest, the sound reverberating even in the open air. It rose and raised its wings, lowering its neck. It made impatient gestures with its wings. "You want me to climb on?" She asked. The dragon made an affirmative noise, and she clambered on with agile moves, grinning at the fact that she was young again in the spirit world.

As soon as she settled onto its warm scales and had a good grip on its soft mane, the dragon rose smoothly and flapped its wings, taking off. Ursa was surprised at how easily she rode the dragon—she didn't even have to do anything special. She looked down at the beautiful scenery, even more beautiful than the real world. The oceans below them glittered and shone, the light blue waters reflecting a beautiful, clear sky with only wisps of white clouds dotting it here and there. Islands were scattered around the waters, and Ursa had a feeling of déjà vu.

"The Fire Nation archipelagos." She murmured, and the dragon snorted in agreement, descending on a large island that Ursa immediately recognised as the capital island. The dragon flew straight towards the caldera, where the capital city lay. When they reached the royal courtyard with the turtleduck pond, the dragon landed and Ursa got off. She looked around in wonder. Everything was the same. She headed to the large tree that she often sat under only to see the dragon rush towards the figure already sitting there. She gasped when the dragon flew into the figure's chest, disappearing completely into the person.

Said person's eyes snapped open. Molten gold eyes peered at Ursa, shining with elation. The figure stood and crushed Ursa in a hug, and the woman's eyes filled with happy tears, hugging the man back.

"Ozai." She said in an emotional voice.

"Ursa." Ozai murmured, and Ursa wept at the sound of her name on his lips. They stood there for Agni knows how long until he finally held her at arms-length and examined her.

"I've been waiting so long for you." He said fondly, raising one of her hands and lifting it to his lips, caressing it lovingly. Ursa blushed like a maiden at his action, but boldly reached forward to kiss him. He responded fiercely, pouring years of neglected passion and all of his love into the kiss. She was putty in his strong arms once again.

"I love you so much." She muttered against his lips. He pecked them again.

"As I do you." He said, touching his nose to hers affectionately. "Let us never part again."

"Hmm…that sounds good, for the rest of eternity." Ursa smiled as Ozai pulled her into another loving kiss.

* * *

**Funny idea, right? XD**


	12. Family

Urzai month April 12th: Family

It wasn't much, but they were the first steps to healing their family again.

Ursa sat under the turtleduck pond, stroking the long black hair of the ever-handsome man whose head was in her lap.

"Mmm." Ozai mumbled contentedly. He was practically purring at the feel of Ursa's fingers combing through his newly washed hair. "Love you." He mumbled, looking at his wife.

"You look like a big baby right now." Ursa teased, her other hand moving to flick his nose. Ozai made a vague noise of protest.

"I'm allowed to be a big baby." He grumbled. "The Fire Lord let me out, I have nothing to do, and I have you."

"I'm not always going to be here, you know." Ursa said. Ozai looked at her in alarm. "Oh, you silly man." Ursa laughed when she saw his panicked expression. "I'm not about to go off and leave you for another decade or so. You should know now that I'm back I will have other duties…like arranging Zuko and Mai's wedding." Ursa's face split into a wide, excited grin.

"Ah, the knife-thrower, niece of the warden of the Boiling Rock. It seems like we royal family members have a preference for nonbenders." Ozai smirked.

"Indeed. Who do you think Azula would end up with, then?" Ursa asked, intrigued by this new revelation.

"Mom, I hope you're not talking about me behind my back." Azula's voice travelled across the garden. The princess of sixteen walked around a pillar and into the garden, looking at her parents with a half-smile, half-smirk. Ozai sat up quickly, clearing his throat.

"Relax, father. I'm not as childish as Zuko." Azula's lips quirked up. "Anyhow, what were you talking about again?"

"Azula, do sit down." Ursa patted the ground next to her. Azula went over and sat down with a long-suffering sigh, and Ozai smirked.

"So…do you have any interests in anybody?" Ursa asked.

"Interests…as in love interests?" Azula asked, raising an eyebrow. Ursa smiled expectantly. "No, mom. All the boys in the Fire Nation are dorks." She said.

"Your father is a dork." Ursa said affectionately. Ozai scowled and muttered something under his breath. "That doesn't mean you won't grow to love them." She said. Ozai smiled rather idiotically. Azula dropped her face into a waiting palm. She had never thought she would ever be dealing with mushy parents, but here she was.

"To end this pointless discussion, the few guys I met on Ember Island were all jerks." Azula said. "So no, I do not have any love interests."

"What about Zuko's friends?" Ursa questioned, fiddling with Ozai's hair again. "How about that water tribe boy? He looks handsome enough." Ursa smirked, making Azula blush.

"Hey. Aren't I enough for—" Ozai said, but Ursa silenced him with a kiss. Azula turned a strange shade of green, the blush fading quickly.

"He has a girlfriend already." Azula said rather stiffly. "I'll take my leave…" She looked at her parents, who were ignoring her in favour of snogging each other's face off. She grimaced, standing up and hurrying back to her rooms.

Ursa broke away from Ozai as soon as Azula was gone.

"I just planted the seed of doubt in her mind." Ursa said gleefully. "Hopefully if she's anything like me she'll chase after her man." She sighed happily.

"You never had to chase me. I was yours all along." Ozai said. Ursa chuckled.

"You're so cheesy." She leaned forward to kiss him again, when someone cleared his throat.

"Um." Zuko said, standing awkwardly.

"What do you want?" Ozai asked irritably. "Can't you see we're busy?" He asked his son, who sported a rather nice blush as red as his robes.

"I need advice." Zuko admitted.

"What kind of advice, my son?" Ursa asked warmly.

"Um…well, actually, I was hoping father might help with this. It's…girl problems."

Ozai raised an eyebrow. "Do tell." He smirked, and Zuko scowled.

"What can I do to stop Mai from cutting off my royal parts?" Zuko blurted out.

"_What?_" Ozai said. Ursa blinked.

"You heard me." Zuko muttered, his whole face so red that you couldn't tell his scar apart from normal skin.

"Well, honey…what did you do to anger her?" Ursa asked.

"I might have…been a bit…chauvinistic…" He mumbled embarrassedly.

"What did you do?" Ozai asked resignedly.

"I…uh…told her to make me something to eat because it's not her place to tell me what to do."

"She's going to become your _Fire Lady_, Zuko." Ozai snorted. "Which means she'll be sitting by your side in every council meeting, and she'll be _very much_ involved in political matters, external and internal. You'd better apologise to her—and fast. Otherwise…Agni have mercy on your soul."

"Ozai." Ursa chided, looking at Zuko's ashen face. "Zuko, make her something in return. Preferably take the rest of the day off work and just spend time with her. I heard she likes fruit tarts? Make her fruit tarts."

"Me?" Zuko asked sceptically. "I can't cook."

"Then let the cooks cook. Otherwise she'll be even angrier. Now go." Ozai said, cupping Ursa's face. Zuko didn't need to be told twice.

"That wasn't nice." Ursa murmured.

"I'm tired of being interrupted, even if it's by family." Ozai said, grazing her jaw. Ursa moaned.

"Should we at least take this into the bedroom?"

"Let's." Ozai stood and picked Ursa up, swinging her into his arms—bridal style. "At least in our room, our children won't interfere. Sometimes having a bigger family is annoying. I like the two of us. Just us. Our little family." He pouted.

"Is that why you hated Zuko?" Ursa smirked. "Because he interrupted our sex?"

Ozai grunted but didn't respond, but it was all Ursa needed to know to have her answer.

* * *

**I don't even know what that was. Oh well.**


	13. Irony

Urzai Month April 13th: Irony

Moonlight filters through the iron bars, casting a brilliant white glow into his cell. Tired eyes raise themselves to meet the light of the full moon. Absent thoughts rush through his mind.

"The water benders will not be able to sleep tonight." He says with a bitter smile, lowering his head to examine his own hands. He rubs them together, generating a pitiful amount of heat. His breath comes out in the form of white mist, and he sees it curl up into the sky, disappearing as it gets higher. Another sour smile arose when he remembers that it was smoke that used to curl out of his nose, to show how powerful he was, and how powerful his inner fire was.

Now, in the cold confines of the stone and metal tower, with his heat stripped away from his core, he sits, barely able to warm himself. The other day the Avatar had come in and handed him a warm blanket, dark red with gold trims.

"Zuko found this in your old chambers." He had said. "Instead of throwing it out, I thought you could use this. Despite being in the Fire Nation, the winters are bound to be cold."

He is grateful to the Avatar after this small, kind act. After all, it was he who had spared him. He often wonders if it would be better for him to die instead of having his dignity stolen. His firebending was his pride. His heritage, his honour, his throne, all gone within the space of a few minutes.

This is such a time, except for another thought, unbidden, runs through his mind quick as lightning strikes. The thought of _her_ brings immense joy and love into his heart, but at the same time inducing longing and the pain caused by such longing.

Casting his empty gaze out to the starry sky and the golden moon, he let out a soft sigh. In his moment of weakness, he allows himself to mourn. He allows himself to release his feelings in a wretched cry. He allows himself to shed precious tears, the droplets flowing down his face and filling his golden orbs.

The moment passes, and he falls silent again, wiping his tears away roughly. She was gone. Gone like everything he loved. Gone like Azulon's love, gone like Iroh, gone like Lu Ten, gone like Zuko, gone like Azula, gone like everyone he's ever loved.

He grits his teeth, and fights back the wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He fights back the love he held, still holds for his wife.

They never properly divorced.

He hates himself for giving into his only weakness, _her_. He hates himself for still feeling, caring. Love was not tolerable in dictatorship. She was a perpetual weakness in his armour of steel, forged by many hardships and sacrifices. Yet she was someone he could never let go.

If he lets her go, he will truly turn into the monster everyone speaks of him as.

Yet, despite his strenuous efforts, another cry escapes his chapped lips. He falls onto all fours in his cell, clenching his teeth. Hot tears threaten to escape again, and this time he lets go, and lets it flow until it stops naturally.

How ironic, he thinks, when his fire is taken away, he has an abundance of water left to shed.

He eventually crawls to the coldest corner of the little space he has. He shivers, but it had the best view of the outside world. The iron bars were insignificant factors, only limiting his physical freedom. His mind is soaring out, out in the crisp night air, free like a true phoenix, representing what he desperately longs to be, but cannot ever become.

He closes his eyes, giving in to the mental fatigue. He is tired. He cannot deal with too much these days, imprisoned, malnourished. He has lost the will to live, especially because a part of him knows that _she_ is gone. He has never believe in the theory of true love or soul mates…until he met her. It was impossible, but he knows, in his spirit, that she is the one for him, and he for her. He was ecstatic when his father finally arranged a marriage between him and her.

Their love was perfect, until they had Zuko.

Perhaps a part of him only hates Zuko so much because he was closer to _her_ than he ever was after his birth. He was involved so much in the politics of war, dragged into it by his father despite being the second son. Then, when that fateful night came, he came to blame _her_ loss on Zuko and Zuko alone. _She_ left to protect _him_. _She_ left him for their son.

He never got over the betrayal.

Now, sitting in the dark and cold corner, he muses about that night again. It boils down to him. It always does. He was foolish to suggest usurping Iroh's rightful throne. He was young, eager, and felt unfairly treated as second son, when he knew Iroh had no interest in politics and war at all. All he wanted was recognition and power, and that's what he got.

In the end it cost him so dearly that everything he gained was not worth it at all. His father dead, his brother distant, his wife banished for treason, his son hating him, and his daughter insane, and now him in prison.

With another misty sigh, he closes his eyes.

"_Ozai…_" A voice calls to him. His eyes flutter open again, alert and wary. Nobody visits him nowadays, except for Zuko and the Avatar, but this voice was distinctively feminine.

"_Ozai…_" It calls again. It incites a familiar spark inside of him, a pleasant ache. He knows that voice.

"_Close your eyes, Ozai…_" The voice lulls him to do exactly as instructed. He complies without a single doubt. He trusts her like nobody else, even after her betrayal.

An image of _her_ forms in his mind.

It is clear—so clear. Clearer than any picture or memory he had of her. It is like she was really in front of him. Her golden eyes are molten, warm and inviting, filled with so much love it makes his throat constrict with guilt. He should never have done what he did. She would still be with him, and they would still be together, with their children, healthy and strong. A world of peace.

"_Ozai._" Her voice was much clearer now as well. Her delicate, beautiful features morphed into a gentle smile, and it makes him want to cry, and so, he lets out heartwrenching sobs that permeate the room. The atmosphere becomes thick with yearning and a deep grief that nobody except for people who've lost loved ones would understand.

"_Come to me, love._" She says temptingly.

"How?" He croaks.

"_You know, my love._" Her voice is gentle, filled with a happy sort of sadness. Wistful.

He knows. He has known for a long time.

He throws the cover off and leans against the cold wall with a bare back. Shivers rip through his now frail body, and he is determined to do this. There is nothing left for him, not anymore. Although…

"Guard!" He musters all his strength. His voice rings across the small room, reverberating. The door creaked open. "Pen and paper." He demanded. "Please. I need to write a note to Fire-Firelord Zuko." He says. The guard hesitates. "Please, one last favour." He pleads. It feels humiliating, but he knows it is for the best as of now.

The guard leaves his sight, and returns minutes later with his requirements. He hands it to Ozai, and retreats once again, closing the door behind him.

Ozai picks up the pen, and after pondering for a second, begins to write.

A mere five minutes later, he folds the piece of paper and holds it, placing the pen down. He closes his eyes again. She appears magically, and smiles understandingly. She holds out a small, soft hand.

"Wait for me, Ursa." He whispers. She nods, smile widening.

_I'm coming, my love._

* * *

The next morning Zuko strides into the cell after receiving news of his father's death, and sees the body against the wall. His features soften. In death, his father's features look relaxed and peaceful. The lines are gone, and his lips are curved up in the smallest of smiles. His eyes flit down to the rest of his body, frozen, tinged with blue. That's when he notices the folded piece of paper and the pen next to his father's corpse.

"Open the door." He instructs the guard. The guard fumbles and unlocks the door, and Zuko walks in, carefully extracting the piece of paper. He unfolds it.

_Zuko_

_Poetic justice. These two words can define my entire life, I realised. Irony, or karma. Take your pick._

_Your mother is dead. I have gone to join her. I can imagine your crestfallen expression now. Abandon your search._

_She loved you, and Azula, too._

_I do as well._

_I'm proud of you, son. Do what I never could, and cherish your family._

_Ozai_

Zuko crunches the piece of paper, and considers setting it on fire, then stops. He realises that this is the only time that Ozai has said 'I love you' to him. It is also the paper which holds the truth to his mother's whereabouts.

Tears slide down the firelord's cheeks. It was for his mother, but also for his father.

"I hope you're happy wherever you are." He murmurs. "May we see each other again in the next life."

With that, he turns on his heels.

"Ready his body for a cremation."

His lips curl into a sad smile. Born with fire, gone with fire.

"If I had to take my pick, father, I'd choose irony."

* * *

**Yep. I was lazy. Ah, feels. Aren't they wonderful?**


	14. Longing

Urzai month April 14th: Longing

Nobody knew why the prince kept on visiting Hira'a. In fact, nobody even knew what Hira'a was until they started noticing the frequent trips to a backwater village. Every time he went he was smiling, and every time he came back he had the saddest expression anyone has ever seen on his face.

"Brother." Iroh knocked on Ozai's door. The younger prince raised his head from his writing as the Crown Prince walked in. "I hope I'm not bothering you." Iroh said gently.

"No." Ozai sighed.

"What is bothering you, Prince Ozai?" Iroh asked, sitting down.

"Nothing." Ozai mumbled. Iroh wasn't stupid—he could see Ozai had some sort of problem with his emotions.

"Come now, Ozai, is it a girl?" Iroh joked. When Ozai remained silent, Iroh gaped. "So it _is_ a girl! Who is she? Is she pretty? Where is she from?" Iroh asked excitedly, sounding like a schoolgirl.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" Ozai asked, knowing his brother's look.

"No." Iroh smirked. Ozai smiled reluctantly.

"The reason I keep on visiting Hira'a is because of her." He admitted.

"Aha! So _that's_ the town you keep on going to!" Iroh exclaimed. "Why her? How did you even find her?" He asked curiously.

"I was passing through the town the other day after I visited Admiral Chan's son." Ozai said. "And I saw her standing at the markets with some guy. I knew I was gone as soon as I saw her. She was beautiful but strong, and her eyes were as entrancing as the topazes inlaid into our jewellery." He said, eyes misting over. Iroh smiled knowingly.

"You love her, don't you?" Iroh asked. Ozai blinked.

"But I hardly even know her!" Ozai protested.

"Her name?" Iroh pressed with a shark-ish grin.

"Ursa." Ozai said.

"You must take me to see her, brother. Any woman worthy of catching 'Your Aloofness' is a woman I must meet." Iroh chuckled.

"I'm actually going after I finish writing this report. You can come with me." Ozai said.

"Does father know about this?"

"He thinks I'm just wasting time, not that he cares." Ozai said a bit bitterly, and Iroh was silent as he watched his brother finish the last stroke. Ozai dried the parchment carefully and rolled it up, tying it with a ribbon. "Alright, let's go."

A few minutes later they were on the palanquin heading to the small village.

"You know, brother, if you really like her that much, go after her." Iroh said. "How long till we get there?"

"Not too long." Ozai said tersely. The rest of the trip there was spent with Iroh giving Ozai nudges and smirks. The second-born prince just responded with scowls and dare Iroh say—blushes?

"We have spotted her, my princes." One of the servants said.

"It makes us sound like stalkers." Iroh laughed. Ozai mumbled something, lifting the curtains so he could see Ursa.

"There she is." Ozai said, his voice full of longing. He watched the woman he has come to love talk to a boy animatedly, a smile lighting up her face, and felt jealousy bubble up within him. "How I wish I was that boy."

"You are a prince, Ozai. You can propose to her if you wish." Iroh raised an eyebrow.

"But she looks happy here." Ozai said quietly. "I wouldn't want to take that away from her, no matter how much I wish to." He tried to memorize every facet of her—the way her lips favoured the left side when she smiled, or the way her eyes crinkled, or her lovely curves.

"You've truly grown up, brother." Iroh murmured. "A year ago you would not have hesitated to rip her away from her home."

"A few months ago I was ready to." Ozai said, listening to her chiming laughter with a wistful smile. "Now…I am content to admire her from afar. Perhaps one day I will gather up the courage to talk to her…but we are still young." He said.

"I wish I was as young as you." Iroh chuckled. "She truly is a beauty, brother." He said seriously. "Do not let her slip through your grasp."

"I won't." Ozai responded. "Let's head back." He said, and the palanquin started moving again, but he could not help himself as he extended a head out of the window to look back at her, eyes full of yearning for the beautiful girl named Ursa.


	15. Lily

Urzai month April 15th: Lily

"Ursa, get the door please!" Her mother called when they heard a rapping on the door. Ursa stood and bounded to the door with a polite smile already on her face. She opened the door to see a mailman standing there holding a bouquet of flowers and a card.

"Are you Miss Ursa?" The mailman asked with a smile. Ursa nodded, surprised.

"Are those for me?" She asked. The mailman handed the card and the flowers to her.

"Yes, they are. You are a very lucky person, my lady. These look like they cost a lot." The mailman said. "Have a good day!"

Ursa shut the door after she went in, frowning. How much could fire lilies cost?

"Who was it Ursa?" Her father asked. "Oh, my, what is this?" Jinzuk smiled at his daughter. "Do you have an admirer? Who is this from, daughter?"

"I don't know." Ursa said, puzzled. Who would send her flowers? She quickly undid the wrapping paper on the bouquet, noticing that it was a deep red wrapping paper with golden lace decorations. It _did_ look rather extravagant. She took the lilies to the greenhouse and replanted them in the soil, hoping they'd grow again. The vibrant fire lilies stood out from all of the lush green plants and the white lilies they had. They also smelt absolutely amazing. Ursa smiled to herself as she walked back to the living room.

"Did Ikem send them to you?" Her father pressed as she re-entered. Ursa groaned, blushing.

"Dad, please." She muttered. Jinzuk smiled, stood, and walked out with a wink. Ursa sighed, sitting down on the couch, looking at the card a tad suspiciously. It was the same red colour as the wrappings around the bouquet, and had elaborate gold designs of a dragon and phoenix on the front and back respectively. She opened the card, and was greeted with a light pink interior with flawless calligraphy written on it in shining black ink.

"I hope you liked the fire lilies. I handpicked them from my mother's garden. They are the best in the Fire Nation, and the most beautiful—but they cannot hope to compare with your radiance, my lady." She read, her face heating up at the end. "A secret admirer…Zai." She read, baffled. She read the note over and over again, but could not, for the life of her, figure out who had written it. She did not know anyone named Zai. She asked around, but nobody knew anyone named Zai. As far as she knew this 'Zai' wasn't even in her village.

A few weeks later she had put the event to the back of her mind, tending to the fire lilies instead of trying to figure out who had sent her them in the first place.

One of those days, the mailman arrived again, with another batch of fire lilies even more vibrant than the last, and another card. He exchanged pleasantries with Ursa before heading off. Once again, Ursa replanted the fire lilies and read the note privately.

"My lady, I hope you still have the last bouquet I sent you. Again, I handpicked these. I would send you different kinds of flowers, but I believe that these fit you the most. They're beautiful, brilliant, and delicate, but strong enough to survive many things, just like you." She whispered, blushing. "Forever yours, Zai." She read again, touching the elegant signature gently.

And so it went on like this for another few months. Ursa now had a small garden full of blooming fire lilies. As she was tending to the lilies, the doorbell rang again. She ran to get it excitedly and opened it to see the mailman frowning at the package in his hands.

"Hello lady Ursa." He said warmly when he saw her. "This time it's not flowers." He gave the soft package to her. "It's this and…" He dug into his bag. "Another card, of course." He smiled. "Well, I've got to get on with my work! Have a nice day!" He waved and bounded off. Ursa smiled, going back in with the package in hand. She sat down and read the card first.

"My lovely Ursa," she read, raising an eyebrow. This was the first time 'Zai' had used her name. "I hope you will forgive me for not giving you flowers today, but I think it is time we met. If you want to meet me, please come to the turtleduck pond at the outer edge of town at sunset. I have enclosed something for you. I hope you will like it and I would appreciate it very much if you could wear it when you come and see me, if you choose to come." She said, glancing at the parcel next to her curiously. "Yours if you will have me, Zai."

She placed the card down gently and opened the packet. A gold necklace with a ruby fell into her lap, shrouded by a delicate pink shawl. She smiled.

That evening, she informed her parents she was heading out. Before she exited, she put the necklace on and draped the shawl around her shoulders.

As Ursa walked a familiar path to the pond, she couldn't help but to wonder whom her admirer was. She knew the possible dangers meeting with a stranger could bring, but she was just too curious.

When she reached the turtleduck pond, it was empty. She looked around cautiously.

"He-hello?" She asked.

"You look exquisite." A low, smooth voice said. Ursa gasped, spinning around. Someone had melted out of the shadows, coming to stand in front of her.

Golden eyes.

Royalty robes.

Topknot.

Crown.

"P-Prince Ozai?" She whispered, falling to her knees, a blush spreading.

"Rise, lady Ursa." The prince said gently, helping her up. Ursa felt stupid now. Of course 'Zai' was 'Ozai'. How could she not have seen it coming?

"For you, my lady." He said, handing her a bouquet of fire lilies. He smiled slightly, and Ursa blushed even more. "I believe I owe you one." He said. Ursa accepted the bouquet.

"Thank you, Prince Ozai." She murmured.

"Please, just call me Ozai…or Zai if you wish." Ozai said with a crooked grin, baring one of his canines.

_Cute_, Ursa thought, holding back a giggle.

"Alright, Zai." She smiled.

"I must say—you look beautiful as always, my lady. I hope you like my gifts." Ozai smiled. Ursa fingered the ruby pendant.

"They're lovely."

"Not as lovely as you." Ozai complimented. Ursa looked down, trying to hide her deepening blush. "My lady…would you…" He hesitated. "Uh, do me the honour of accompanying me to the ball my father is going to hold?" He asked hopefully. Ursa gasped.

"I…I would love to!" She said, eyes glistening. Ozai grinned with relief. He raised her free hand and kissed the back of it. Ursa suddenly felt all fuzzy inside as he looked at her with riveting golden eyes.

"I look forward to sharing the evening with you, Fire Lily."


End file.
